


A Lesson in Cliteracy

by 1CaptCora3



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: FE3H Wank Week, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25748791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1CaptCora3/pseuds/1CaptCora3
Summary: Through the power of friendship and newfound confidence and self-love, Marianne explores her body for the first time.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Raphael Kirsten/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4
Collections: Wank Week 2020





	A Lesson in Cliteracy

**Author's Note:**

> Happy FE Wank Week! Although I have experience writing plays and short stories, I have never written fan-fiction, let alone sexual content. But I felt compelled to write this to inspire something in this community. This will probably be the most wholesome porn you ever read, but I hope you feel empowered to practice self-care in whatever form that may look like for you. <3

“Marianne, I highly encourage you to... explore your body.” ~Dorothea  
“You just gotta find what works for you.” ~Leonie   
“You deserve to start your day with an orgasm, Marianne.” ~Hilda

This is the advice that’s been echoing through Marianne’s mind for the past few months. As she’s gotten closer to the other girls at Garreg Mach, they’re well-meaning, nay, kind words were resonating with her more and more each day, causing the cold, selfish, and misguided words of her uncle to become as empty and meaningless as they were untrue. 

“Masturbation is dishonoring to the goddess. Those who do it even once are worthless to her.”

“That’s not true.” Marianne laughs to herself, but with the conviction of a saint. There are few others her age who have studied the scriptures with as much ferocity as she has. She knows that within the holy texts, not once is masturbation mentioned. When sex is discussed, it is described as a beautiful act that the goddess created herself as a way to form unity amongst her followers. 

“So how do I fight this feeling of shame?” Marianne asks. 

Marianne finds a solution best fit for her temperament: books. Turns out, if you look hard enough, there are collections of articles and research studies on female masturbation and pleasure in the Garreg Mach Monastery Library! Marianne being a trusted regular doesn’t even have to go through the humiliation of checking them out.

Over the course of a week, Marianne goes in and out of the library, reading something new each night. Her room at the monastery is not well ventilated, so she hasn’t been wearing pajamas. At least, that’s the reasoning she gives herself, in case anyone asks. But even then, by her fourth day on her journey of pleasure education, she doesn’t bother to hide the books. She doesn’t need to. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. And so far no one has treated her differently. Sure Hilda gave her the occasional smirk, and Ignatz, Raphael, and Mercedes had a little extra flush in their cheeks, but if anything was truly different, it was the pride and joy her friends exuded when they talked with her while those books were prominently displayed in the crook of her arm. 

“So why can’t I do it?” Marianne wonders. 

She’s been reading the articles for an entire week. She knows it’s okay. She wants to do it. But she can’t. Why not?  
That afternoon after class, Marianne heads back to the library. She heads to the little research section where she’s had the most luck finding her books, only to find something else. 

“Oh! Hey Marianne!” Ignatz spots her out of the corner of his eye.

“Hi Ignatz,” Marianne says as excitedly as possible. Ignatz is one of her dearer friends, but she still has a hard time projecting her voice to match her internal emotion. 

“I-I’m so glad you’re here. I was hoping to get your input on something. You see, I’m in charge of organizing the library this afternoon, and I’m having a little trouble with this section. I couldn’t help but noticed you’ve delved into this topic recently. Could you help me?” His gentle eyes tell Marianne all he needs to know: that she is protected and valued in this situation.

“Sure,” she beams.

“Great! I found these two books.” Ignatz holds up a small book titled Feminine Sexual Pleasure: Techniques for Yourself or Your Partner, and another titled Destigmatize: Talking Openly About Self-Love. “See? Although the latter is based on psychological and sociological studies, neither of these are based on biological studies like the rest of the books in this section. Do you think I should put them back in the psychology section, or would they be of better use here?”

“Hmmm. Well—I think topically all these books go together. It’s just that, they’re coming from different perspectives. I think it’s always important when researching a topic to get a variety of viewpoints. So I think they’re better off here.”

“That’s exactly what I thought!” Ignatz excitedly fumbles through the rest of the books alphabetically to find the spots for the two books he’s holding.

“A-actually, could I maybe...take those off your hands, Ignatz?” Marianne tentatively requests. 

“Huh? Oh! Of course! Be my guest!” He gently places the books into her hands. “I’m glad we ran into each other today. Who knows if you would’ve found them.”

“Yes,” Marianne giggles. “Quite the coincidence. Goodbye!” She turns around gently, but quickly as to fly back to her room to start reading.

“Oh! Marianne!” She halts and turns back towards Ignatz. “One more thing. Do you remember that sunset I showed you last month?”

“Yes! I could never forget.”

“Great! Well-uh—I wanted to ensure that you didn’t, so...” he pulls out a piece of sketch paper from his pocket, not much larger than a postcard. “I tried my best to immortalize it for you. I don’t use oil pastels very often, but....” 

Marianne gingerly pinches the edge of the paper and angles the image towards her. She beholds a beautiful, miniature Impressionist version of that glorious sunset they shared together. 

“Oh, Ignatz. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Her heart is saying so much more than her mouth can speak. 

“Oh! It was nothing, really.” He rubs the back of his neck to keep from blushing. “I just thought you’d might like to have it. Well uh, goodnight!”

“Goodnight.” She smiles and slowly heads out, and decides to head for the dining hall, hoping to have supper before it gets dark. 

Tonight the dining hall is serving sweet buns, one of her favorite desserts. She takes three buns and sits at a table across from Claude, Hilda, and many others from the Golden Deer House. They acknowledge her presence, but seeing the sweet buns on her plate don’t ask her to sit with them. They know she would much rather be a silent observer as she sinks her teeth into the buns. The warmth of the chandeliers, the perfectly sticky and chewy buns, and the laughter of her friends give her whole body a comforting glow. It’s a peaceful evening, and Marianne realizes, as she has over and over again during her time at Garreg Mach, that she is loved, and worthy of love. 

As the dining hall begins to empty of the other students leaving only Marianne and her friends, Raphael offers to walk her back to her room. Although usually threatened by this suggestion, Marianne takes up his kind offer. She walks in blissful silence with her hand on his arm, as he discusses the different birds he met that day, and of course, how he devoured those sweet buns. 

“Goodnight! Don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Raphael salutes her and stomps cheerfully away.

Marianne closes her door, turns around, and takes a deep breath, not to calm her nerves, but to take in the wonderful support she received from her friends. She then places the two books from the library on her bed. She opens the top drawer in her desk, and searched for a small jar of putty. She pinches off a small piece and sticks it to the back of Ignatz’s drawing, climbs onto her bed, and presses it on the parallel wall, just above where her head would rest on the pillows. She turns and pulls back the curtain on her window just a crack, to allow the moonlight to illuminate the picture. She gingerly removes all her garments and places them on the floor. She then sits with her legs crossed and proceeds to read Destigmatize: Talking Openly About Self-Love. Much of what she reads is what she has researched before, but this time it was different. This book wasn’t just talking about female genitalia, it was talking about the human spirit. Her spirit. She scours through the pages ferociously, reading over and over again about the connection of her soul to her pleasure being not just present, but sacred and acceptable. Pleasing and worthy. She was worthy of pleasure, and she doesn’t have to ask anyone’s permission to give it to herself. 

“Fuck it,” she says to herself.

Marianne reaches down and pulls back the clitoral hood to find that she was rather damp. She then takes a swipe along her vulva to find it surprisingly slick. She isn’t thinking about anybody. She isn’t thinking about any precarious situations. She is only thinking about loving herself in a new way. She then proceeds to gently rub the tip of her clitoris with her middle finger, while continuing to read. It feels rather nice, but it begins to feel repetitive. With her free hand, she opens up the smaller “tips and tricks” book. She goes back and forth between the two books, bouncing between the validation of the one, and the different techniques of the other. Marianne begins using circlular motions and deeper pressure on her clitoris. She switches from that to a tapping motion. Then she discovers her favorite maneuver. She clenches her clitoris between her index and middle finger and pulled the up and down and in a circle. Up, down, and in a circle. Up, down, and in a circle. She does this for a while, taking in deep breaths, lying back, and letting her free hand rest on her tummy. 

After an hour or two of reading and experimenting, Marianne reaches a level of bravery she was not expecting. She lets go of her clitoris with her two fingers, and instead presses down with her thumb. She slowly slides the tip of her index finger over the entrance of her vagina. She takes a deep breath, and to her surprise, her index finger is both pushed in by her hand and pulled up by her vagina. Her fingers are rather small, but she can feel something that could only be described as a searing sting and a comforting pressure. Her finger is hugged tightly by her inner walls. She then proceeds to stroke a rough patch she assumes to be her g-spot. It is a faint, interesting sensation, but the stinging outweighs the pleasure. She decides she’d try again at a later time, and for now just enjoys the clitoral stimulation. She slowly pulles her finger out to reveal a general wetness as well as a little glob of her body’s natural lubricant. Out of curiosity, she brings her finger up to her nose to see what it smells like. The whiff was strangely familiar. Out of slight perversion in her curiosity, she takes a taste. 

Albinean berries. Noa fruit. 

The wonderful taste of those sweet buns had somehow permeated her vaginal fluids. A slight smile crosses her face. She continues stimulating her clitoris until she dries out and drifts off to sleep.  
She doesn’t think she experienced an orgasm that night. She felt a very small wave of relaxation go through her brain though, and that was enough for her. 

...

Five years passed, and once again Marianne finds herself eating a scrumptious meal with her now much older, wiser friends. She sits at the table with them, as they all desperately try to grab ahold of one another through their words and thoughts. They truly love each other, and aren’t gonna let go this time.   
Raphael walks Marianne back to her room once more. She giggles and comments on his words. And he does his very best to make her laugh, as he used to do when they were forming a closer friendship as students. 

Once they reach her door, Raphael turns toward her and wraps his arms around her.

“Goodnight, Marianne. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispers. She doesn’t let go until she knows he’s ready. She watches him slowly walk away.

Marianne opens the door to find her room just as she left it. She takes off her clothes, folds them neatly, and places them in her old drawer. She then lies flat on her back on top of her bed, and looks up at the drawing Ignatz made for her. She closes her eyes, capturing the image in her mind. She breathes slowly and deeply. She thinks on her friends, on their love for her, her love for them, and her love for herself. A flickering signal from her core travels down her legs and up her spine. She clenches her muscles for a few moments, and then let’s out a sigh. All is right in her world again as she drifts off to sleep.


End file.
